Notes of a Romance
by delusional-pumpkin
Summary: REVISION OF "FOR ETERNITY". AU. He looked at his future with a one track mind, not noticing the possibilities that were open to him. She blamed herself for a tragedy and cut herself off from her passion. Neither was living live to its fullest.
1. Chapter I: The Last Day

**Summary:** AU. He looked at his future with a one track mind, not noticing the possibilities that were open to him. She blamed herself for a tragedy and cut herself off from her passion. Neither was living live to its fullest. A story of expectations, loss, self-discovery, and the kind of love that changes a person for eternity.

**Author's Note:** Yeah. I know. It's taken me long enough. I'm fully aware. But here it is, revised and better than before (in my humble opinion). More later.... I think you've waited long enough, right?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Twilight_. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I could never claim the world and characters she has created. I am just having a little bit of fun with them. However, should she like to hand over Edward, I would certainly not object.

I would also like to note that I am not entirely up on 1900s etiquette. Please bear with me. If you find something that is so off that it bothers you to no end, please let me know about it. I will gladly change it. I also am not entirely sure on what Naperville would have looked like in the early 1900s. I am just kind of making it up as I go along. All I know is that is a wealthy neighborhood now so I am going with that.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Notes of a Romance**

**The Last Day**

When I was seventeen, all I could think of was World War I, known then as the Great War. I imagined myself in the thick of battle with a rifle in hand, a crisp uniform with badges and sashes, and a filthy but triumphant face. I could see a grand ceremony with honored and distinguished guests mixed with my proud family as I received a medal for serving my country with outstanding bravery. In short, I saw all the glory and nothing of the gore.

My mother used to tell me that I was wishing my life away, that I had so much more to offer the world than a number to add to the ever growing count of the young men lost overseas. But, of course, I did not hear a word of her preaching. It was no secret what she thought of the war and she could not bear the thought of losing her one and only son. I thought I was invincible.

It seemed to me as though I was on a logical and clear lit path. In the darkness that surrounded me, I could not see the other paths that stretched to wonderful and unknown places that were waiting. I thought there was only my mother's path: a world renowned pianist; my father's: law school; and my own: war. There was also the ever popular matrimony path but I was not looking for a companion of that sort and that particular turn off on my path seemed too far down the road to even contemplate. I felt complete within myself and where I was headed.

But all you need is a little light in the darkness to brighten your perspective.

And that's how my world changed. It brightened. It shifted. It transformed. It _sang_.

I met her.

But before you meet her, you have to meet me; the me that existed before she came into my life and turned it around. Only then can you truly understand the impact that she had on me….

* * *

"I placed a few applications on your desk. You should be able to complete them by the end of the week."

That was how mornings always begun in the Masen household. Not with a "hello" or a "good morning" in sight. No, just the never-ending talk of his future. This future consisted of places like Harvard, New York, Cornell, Yale, and Dartmouth. These were places he could not possibly see himself at. His father, yes. But he was not of the same make of his father. He never had been. They were as different as summer and winter, day and night. But that did not stop Edward Masen Senior from trying to make his son a little version of himself.

He worked as a lawyer. He was the founder of the Law Offices of Edward Masen. Everyone in Naperville knew him by name, even though it was not a great feat in the small, ridiculously wealthy town. He was even sought out by clients from Chicago. The man knew his stuff. It was not a secret, however, what he felt when it came to Edward's future plans. He so desperately wanted to tack the words "& Son" on to his practice. Nothing would give him a greater joy.

"And if I prefer not to fill them out?" Edward asked as he roughly buttered a piece of toast until he had managed to rip a hole through it.

At this, his father slammed his papers down on the table with enough force to shake the glassware. His eyes remained neutral but Edward could tell that they were narrowed slightly in his anger.

"Now, you listen here, Edward. You will fill those applications out. I refuse to let you waste your life. If you weren't able to get into college, then that would be one thing. But I didn't raise a child that does not excel in academia. You could do great things, Edward. Why won't you let yourself try?"

"Because that isn't the life I want, father!" Edward said, shoving his plate away from him. "It has been the perfect path for you. However, it isn't for me. I've chosen where I want to go. I don't see why you can't accept that choice. I could make a difference overseas!"

His father breathed in deeply through his nose in an attempt to calm himself. "I refuse to accept that choice because no father should have to bury their son. Is that all you want to leave us with, Edward? Photographs, memories, a medal, and a flag that will all surely fade as time goes on? Is that what you want?"

"Edward!" his mother gasped, her face in her hands. She shook her head a few times before she allowed it to resurface. She sighed. "Now is certainly not the time for this discussion, Ed." She turned to her son, sadness strewn through her beautiful eyes. "Edward, you will fill out those papers to the best of your ability. You will see the options open to you before you make a decision. And while you're at it, you might as well fill one out for the Institute." With that final remark, she picked up her glass and took a dainty sip with a smug smirk present on her flawless features.

Unlike her husband, Edward's mother was rooting for the Institute of Musical Art, an up-in-coming university in New York. At the age of four, Elizabeth gave her son the best music lessons money could buy. In her opinion, Edward was a master at the keys. He played with the skill and precession that many could only dream of. Edward, however, found no great pleasure in it. He played to placate his mother and only when forced.

Edward sighed. He knew that there was no way out of the situation they had put him into. He was backed into a corner and the only way out was to sign on the dotted line. If he really thought about it, which he did not want to do, he would find that they were only pushing him because they cared and they wanted what was best for him. It was really what any decent parent would do. But Edward, being a teenager that was told he could not do what he wanted, preferred to believe that they were doing it out of spite and go on in his silent rage.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence, minus an occasional sigh from Mrs. Masen and a sniff for Mr. Masen. When Edward was finished, he pushed his chair back, purposely dragging it across the beautiful floor that was newly polished, mainly to break the silence. His father paused in his readings to glare at his son and his mother gave him a pitying sort of smile. He had almost made it to the door when his mother called him back.

"Where are you going?" she asked, curiosity in her stunning emerald eyes.

"Johnston's Music Store," he replied. There was a look of clear annoyance on his face. "Mary Alice's birthday was last week and I still owe her a present."

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Masen said affectionately. "I do love her for being so clever."

"That's funny," Edward said with a smirk on his face. "I rather despise her for it."

"Oh, no you don't!"

"Well, you're right. But I wish I did." He turned from them again to walk into the foyer. However, his mother was not finished with him yet.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" she exclaimed but Edward knew that she really had not. His mother never forgot anything. Edward turned back to her only to be faced with a smile. Not the pitying smile from a moment ago. Nor was it a 'have a good day' smile. No. It was a 'I want something' smile. And she usually got it, hence the existence of the smile. "There is this…welcoming party tonight."

"Welcoming party?" Edward asked, his voice dull. Great. He would be wasting hours with senseless people tonight when he could be putting that time to greater use. He could read a book, get those pointless applications out of the way, come up with a better argument that would persuade his parents to see his point of view. Lying on his bed in a comatose state would even be more useful than socializing with the society of Naperville.

"Mr. Swan's daughter arrived last night and he's throwing a little party for her return," his mother explained, giving him a pleading look. "Most of your classmates will probably be there."

"That's reassuring."

"Mary Alice will go, I'm sure. You know that girl can't be excluded from anything," his father said, laughing from behind a folder of documents.

"Yes, and it is that precise illness that has caused me avoid her on days such as these like the plague," Edward replied, rolling his gorgeous eyes.

Mary Alice Brandon was impossibly eccentric. She needed to be in the center of everything and usually was. Her careless nature was infectious. Even when he was in a horrendous mood, Mary Alice could just make him laugh. Which is precisely how they met. They were in first grade and he was upset about someone taking his crayon or something equally trivial and in comes Mary Alice with her own little jar of clay. She wore a bright smile and Edward was immediately drawn to her. They had been friends ever since. She was the only person at Bram Stoker Academy that he could relate to or even talk to for that matter.

"Oh, it would mean so much to Mr. Swan if you were there," his mother insisted. He doubted it, however. Mr. Swan was actually the Police Chief of Naperville. He had more money than he knew what to do with and yet he still worked. Last summer, he caught him and Mary Alice in a 'no trespassing' part of the woods on the outskirts of town. Edward was just showing something to Mary Alice. However, ever since that harmless incident, he preferred to give Edward the cold shoulder which Edward was all too happy to reciprocate.

"What do you mean his daughter is 'returning'? I didn't even realize he had children," Edward stated. He was thrown to be honest. Mr. Charles Swan did not seem the type of man to have children or even a wife. Or even be intimate with someone for that matter. He was a rather unforgiving and unapproachable sort of man.

"Only the one. Her name is Isabella Swan. She's been living with her mother in Pennsylvania. For some reason, she's decided to reunite with her father." His mother picked up her cup and took a sip of tea.

"Hmm. Well, I suppose there is no way of getting out of this, is there?" he asked, heading towards the door.

"No," his father said. "I am being forced to go so you have been condemned to the same fate."

Edward chuckled darkly. "Yes, well, Mr. Swan actually likes you. Me, however, he is a little uncertain about."

"You are going. That is final." His father returned to the documents. That was a sure sign of the conversation being over.

"I'll see you later," he replied to the silent room and walked into the foyer thoroughly annoyed. He wrenched his coat off the rack, threw it on, and walked out into the rigid air of an Illinois morning in January.

He walked down the snow covered walkway and out the classic white picket fence that encircled their pristine yard. He turned left onto the sidewalk, his loafers crunching the salt under his feet as he walked. He passed by other large houses on his left with their shutters open to the sunlight. To his left was Forks Road with houses on the other side as well. The street was lined with the alternating pattern of tree, black iron street light, tree, black iron street light. As the monotony of the scene stretched on, his mind wandered.

If there was one thing that Edward did not understand, it was why this girl needed a party. It was certainly not that difficult to meet people in Naperville. Especially if you are Mr. Swan's daughter. Especially if you are a daughter that will inherit a rather large fortune. Especially if you are a girl at all. Most of the young women by this time have realized what a waste most of the single men are and have decided that it just simply is not worth the time. Needless to say, the men find themselves getting a little bored with the same old girls.

He was soon standing out in front Johnston's Music Store in the middle of the town. The lights were on but the sign in the door was still turned to 'Closed'. He paid no attention to it however and walked right in, a small bell tinkling above him to signal his arrival.

Edward looked around the shop. Truthfully, it was downright mess. The small room was filled with shelves of instruments, music, batons, rosin, reeds, and various other items. The other half of the room contained a long counter of glass that ran the entire length. Inside were the more expensive instruments and valuable items that Johnston himself had collected. The white cinderblock walls were draped in articles, posters, sheet music, and Polaroid's of semi-famous musicians that had once placed a toe in the shop.

An older gentleman came through the doorway behind the counter at the sound of the bell. He was wizened beyond his years. His hair was completely white as was the beard. His blue eyes were magnified behind thick glasses. He supported his weak frame on a black cane that clunked with every other step. He squinted at Edward before his wrinkled face broke out into a crooked smile.

"Well, if it isn't Edward Masen, protégé extraordinaire," Mr. Johnston said as he moved closer to Edward. "Is it January already?"

Edward laughed lightly. "Yes, sir."

"Where is the little pixie, I wonder?"

Edward laughed brightly. Ever since Mr. Johnston met the bouncy Mary Alice years ago, he had taken to affectionately calling her a little pixie. She adored it. "She should be here soon. You know she wouldn't miss out."

"Of course." Mr. Johnston finally reached Edward. He leaned his cane against the counter before he took Edward's hands in his. He touched his fingertips, frowning after a few minutes of his inspection. "Edward."

"Yes, yes, I know." Edward said, gently pulling his hands away from the man. He grabbed the cane and placed it back in his hands. He then started to walk toward the back of the shop. "I know you are disappointed in me. Trust me, I know. I do live with my mother after all."

Mr. Johnston laughed, slowly following him as they weaved their way through his organized clutter. "Yes, of course. But truly, Edward, you are wasting it."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Edward asked as he took a seat behind the grand piano in the back of the store behind the shelves. He lifted the cover off the keys and ran his fingers over them. He turned back to Mr. Johnston.

"Yes, but it takes a request." He sounded so defeated, so upset.

Edward bowed his head in shame. "This isn't me, Mr. Johnston. This isn't my life."

"One day you shall wake up and realize, protégé." With that, he limped away towards the counter where he spent his days.

Edward sighed as he looked down at the piano. He understood what everyone was saying. Really, he did. His mother, Mr. Johnston, Mary Alice. They thought he had this amazing skill. They thought that he should use it to the best of his abilities. But he just did not understand it.

There was no way for him to really explain it. He did not understand it himself. All he knew was that sitting in front of a piano held nothing for him. It was like staring at a blank wall. He could play every single note that any composer had written on paper and he still would find nothing in it. He could not deny the ease and precision with which he played. However, he also could not deny that it was boring beyond belief.

"Junior!"

He heard her before he heard the tinkling of the bells. Her small feet barely made a sound as she ran toward the back of the store, waving at Mr. Johnston as she passed his spot by the counter. She rounded the last shelf full of horse hair bows and smiled brilliantly at Edward when she came to stop in front of him.

"Mary Alice," he said, trying his best to keep the smirk off his face.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Junior?" she asked with all the innocence in the world. Her bright green dress shined in the artificial light of the store while her long black hair danced around her as she bounced on the balls of her feet. A slight smile was on her face, the epitome of impatience.

Edward sighed loudly for show. He hit a few notes on the piano which took the form of "Happy Birthday". He finished quickly and looked over at her. "Happy Birthday, Mary Alice."

She laughed brightly and came to sit beside him on the bench. "Thank you, Edward." With that, he launched into a mini concert for Mary Alice with all of her favorites.

It had been this way ever since they were ten and Edward had grown to despise the piano. When he stopped playing regularly, Mary Alice was the first one to complain. However, try as she might, he would not budge on his platform. So, knowing that he simply could not resist on her day, she asked for him to play as a birthday present. It was the one day Edward did without complaining. If that was what Mary Alice wanted, then he could give it to her for one day. It was also at her request that they engaged in their ritual at Mr. Johnston's. She said there was something oddly poetic about the incredibly misshapen store.

When Edward finished up "Moonlight Sonata", he noticed that Mary Alice had a smirk on her face. She was staring through a gap in the shelves. He could hear Mr. Johnston bidding good day to someone from his place at the counter then the soft tinkle of the bells above the door.

"Mary Alice," he said, pretending to sound upset. "I'm not doing this for my health."

She laughed at him and rolled her eyes. "So…about tonight." She began and Edward could immediately see where the conversation was heading.

"No. No. I refuse." He shook his head and stared down at the keys.

"Oh, please Edward? Indulge me this once!" She was pleading with him. Her bright eyes were round and there was a pout on her lips.

"I will not! You know very well that I have no desire to even put a toe in the Swan household. I'm surprised that you are so desperate to go. He doesn't exactly care for you either." He paused. "And I indulge you enough!"

"Yes, all of that is true. However," a mischievous glint appeared in her eye. "I have that simply divine gown hanging in my closet just begging to be worn!" She laughed at Edward's annoyed look. "Oh, you know you want to go!"

"Why would that be, Mary Alice? Please, do enlighten me." He stared down at her with challenging eyes.

"To see Miss Swan, of course," she answered as though the idea of obvious and anyone with half a brain would have picked up on it.

"Please. If she's a Swan, I have no interest." He started to play once again to see if he could possibly tune her out. "I'm certain nothing about her could tempt me to want to put up with her father."

"You may find yourself surprised, Edward Masen. Stranger things have happened."

Edward laughed. "Very true. However, I highly doubt it."

"Oh, come on. Those simpletons will need some musical talent to fill up the background, after all!" She put on an excited smile.

"Oh, yes. Just what I want to do. Play for the lot of them. I'm sure they'd appreciate it…if I agreed that is."

Mary Alice rolled her eyes. "I don't understand why you are so adamant about not playing."

"Are you keen on playing the violin?" he counted, raising an eyebrow at her.

"It's not the same. I don't play the violin with the skill that you play the piano."

"Doesn't matter. You still don't enjoy it."

"You enjoy it!" Mary Alice said, placing her hands on her hips as if challenging him. "You just get bored by it too quickly. There's a difference, Junior."

"You're neurotic," Edward said as he stopped playing all together to turn towards her.

"And you're an idiot."

"Thank you, darling."

"My pleasure, dear. Now keep playing."

That was the end of it. He knew that he could not, under any circumstances, get out of that torture that was sure to ensue that evening. How he loathed Mary Alice.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. There is the first chapter of the revised For Eternity which has now become Notes of a Romance. For those of you have returned after this obnoxious break I took, welcome back and thank you for keeping up with me. I don't deserve it. Please let me know what you think of the revision. For those of you who are just joining, welcome. I promise that I will do my best to never let the story go that long again. College has just taken a lot of time and the characters in my head took a break. But, alas, now that finals are here, they're out in full force. Chapter 2 is already written and should be out by next week! **

**Now…review!**


	2. Chapter II: Propriety

**Author's Note: ** I would like to thank my three lovely reviewers from the last chapter. I loved hearing your input. Sorry this is a few days late but finals are this week and I have quite a bit under my belt at the moment. On that note, a review would be an excellent way to cheer me up!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Twilight_. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I could never claim the world and characters she has created. I am just having a little bit of fun with them. However, should she like to hand over Edward, I would certainly not object.

* * *

**Chapter II: Propriety **

He entered the foyer promptly at 6:30, looking attractive and smart in his tuxedo. His green eyes were bright with the black he wore and his bronze hair was a little less messy than usual. Even he had to admit that he looked good. Too bad it was all wasted on Miss Swan.

His mother praised him as he stood on the last step of the staircase. She looked strikingly beautiful in a red gown with long sleeves and a flowing skirt. Her bronze hair was left down in gentle curls that fell around her shoulders. Her skin was beautifully pale from lack of sunlight due to the winter months. She had a black fox fur shawl draped over her slim shoulders to protect her from the cold. Edward Masen Sr. was also wearing a tuxedo. The jacket was a little tight from the weight that he tended to gain over the winter but apart from that, he looked charming. His brown hair was smoothed down on his head, a look that his son could never quite accomplish.

Edward shrugged into his coat and headed out the door after his parents. They settled into his father's Cadillac and drove towards the other side of town where the Swan's resided. Edward spent most of the trip looking out the window, half wishing that the family did not own a piano so that he could spent the night in a solitary corner, drinking expensive wine and getting tipsy enough that he would not have the mind to converse with his peers. However, Edward was not so lucky.

Almost immediately on entering the Swan residence, he was pushed towards a baby Grand in the center of the sitting room by an older woman, just to the right of the staircase that led upstairs. Edward had to admit that it was a beautiful instrument. It was slightly outdated by the look of it, maybe only by ten years. It was sparkling white, giving off the appearance that it was attended to daily, just like his own.

As he looked down at it, Mr. Charles Swan approached him. They shook hands with surprising civility.

"Will you delight us with a piece, Edward?" Mr. Swan asked, gesturing to the piano.

Edward groaned inwardly but felt that it was too impolite to flat out refuse. "Ah, I would but won't your daughter want to present some of her talent? It is her party after all."

Mr. Swan laughed lightly; however, there was not much humor behind it. "My Isabella doesn't play. It was her mother's."

Elizabeth was suddenly behind Edward. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled winningly at Mr. Swan. "Of course Edward will play." She smiled down at her son kindly but there was clearly a challenge to say otherwise.

Edward sighed, admitting defeat. "Any suggestions?" He pushed his coat tails behind him as he sat down at the bench and poised his long fingers over the keys.

"Do you know Dvorak? How about the Romantic Piece No. 1?" Mr. Swan asked as though he expected the negative.

Edward almost laughed at the man. He had been playing Dvorak since he was ten. "Of course, Mr. Swan." He went right into the piece, his fingers skillfully playing the piece with amazing precision. He looked up at Mr. Swan and his mother to smile. Mr. Swan smiled back before quickly turning to welcome other guests. His mother merely shook her head in laughter before returning to her husband.

He had to admit that the Swan residence was quite remarkable. It was as though he stepped foot into a virtual winter wonderland. The vast entrance way had a beautiful white marble floor with towering windows on either side of the white doors. A majestic crystal chandelier hung in the middle. Off to the right were the white walls of Mr. Swan's den. To the left was the immense sitting room that currently held almost the entire population of Naperville. It had luxurious white carpeting and furniture. The walls were painted white and trimmed in oak that was white-washed. The right side of the room held the staircase that led to the second floor. An ornately carved fireplace was against the left wall in between the windows that faced the forest that surrounded the house. On top of the fireplace was a painting of a landscape. They depicted a beautiful mountain range in autumn. The colors blended together flawlessly, making the observer wish to jump right in. Other trinkets of their wealth were displayed at intervals around the room, the baby Grand that Edward was currently at certainly being one of them. It was all rather ostentatious, but Edward figured that was the point. After all, what else did the people of this town have to do but compete with each other? And Mr. Swan was winning.

Edward continued to play through the piece. He was halfway done when everyone in the room unexpectedly stopped talking. Their heads turned in the direction of the staircase. Edward turned towards it as well out of instinct. He continued to play, figuring that it was time for Miss Isabella Swan's entrance.

He first caught sight of a snow white ankle and a blue heel. His eyes slowly snaked up her body. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown with long sleeves that seemed to be made for her body shape. It hugged her form perfectly and trailed behind her on the white carpet. She donned a string of pearls on her neck and a pair of pearl earrings. Edward then focused on her face.

She had a pale, heart shaped face with smooth, womanly features. Her pink lips were in a soft smile as she looked down on the room below. Her eyes, however, were clearly hesitant; her chocolate brown orbs darted from face to face, trying hard not to linger on one for too long. Her dark brown hair was pinned up in a complicated bun with small curls framing her face.

As she made her way down the staircase, she gripped the banister tightly. Edward watched her carefully as she moved. His fingers had slowed to a tempo that resembled something of a funeral march. Just then, her eyes rested on his face. Her smile grew a little brighter, showing off perfectly white teeth. Her eyes did not waver like he expected them to, but rather held his gaze. He smiled back and stopped playing as she reached the last five steps. Mr. Swan met her at the bottom and took her arm under his. The room suddenly broke out into applause. She seemed startled by the action and broke her gaze from Edward.

Edward sighed and looked down at the keys of the baby Grand. He breathed in deeply, desperate for air. It seemed as though he had stopped breathing the second he laid eyes on her. Once he regained his composure, he began Dvorak over again. After a while, he risked looking up from the keys only to find her chocolate eyes on him once again.

* * *

_And so there she was. The girl who had been the talk of the town for the past few weeks ever since the news of her arrival had reached the ears of gossips. I don't believe she expected the welcome that she received. It was clear to me within a minute of seeing her that she was uncomfortable by the unnecessary attention._

_That was one of three things I noticed about Miss Isabella Swan that evening. The second was that she was unbelievably clumsy. Her own two feet seemed to be the biggest obstacle for her to overcome apart from her father on her arm._

_And the third…_

_Isabella Swan had captured the hearts of all the eligible young men in the room, with one exception._

_Her beauty was undeniable. She was certainly a vision as she descended the steps before me. Her eyes held a depth that I felt I could drown in. However, I was too sensible to fall in love with her at first sight. I knew nothing of her. For all I knew, she could have been as conniving as Jessica Stanley. Of course, she was on the opposite end of the spectrum but I did not know that._

_And people like Michael Newton simply did not care. She could have been the devil incarnate and he would have offered his soul willingly. Anything to be in her good graces._

_But I digress._

_I did not love Bella the moment I saw her. But she did present me with a challenge. In one sentence full of sadness, not malice, she made me question my entire self. She made me open my eyes and my ears. After knowing her for five minutes, she lit the path that had been running parallel to mine all along._

_That made her all the more appealing to me._

* * *

Edward played once Miss Swan entered the throng of well wishers. He played the happy, upbeat, party songs that he detested more than anything else. His fingers itched to play something challenging, something substantial if he had to play at all. How he hated his skill at the retched instrument.

As he switched songs once again, Isabella's head picked up and she looked over at him. Their eyes locked; brown on green. There was something in her eyes as she looked at him. It was as if she was smiling. But Edward could not decide on what it was exactly. It was like she was closed off from him. He could not read her the way he read everyone else. Like how he could tell that, at that moment, Michael was frustrated and angry that she was not paying attention to him. Like how he could tell Ben Dawson was thinking about Angela Webber. Like how he could tell that Jessica Stanley was comparing her looks to Isabella's. Like how he could tell that Mary Alice was behind him and feeling very smug.

Without so much as a word, Mary Alice set a flute of champagne down in front of him and walked off in the direction of Miss Swan. She was stunning. She was wearing the canary yellow gown that she received for her birthday from her father. Her long black hair was piled on top of her head with sapphire clips that glistened in the light. She was a sight to be seen and the older women were already discussing her outfit in hushed tones. Edward was sure that she smiling.

She walked over to the crowd that was surrounding the dear Miss Swan and maneuvered her way into the throng quite gracefully and without an ounce of trouble. She gently tapped Isabella on the back and stuck out her slim hand for a hand shake. Mary Alice was not one for the typical curtsy. Isabella immediately responded with her own hand to which some of those in her party seemed to find appalling.

The two young women carried on a conversation, the others quite forgotten. Isabella seemed to transform within a moment of talking to Mary Alice. She seemed to relax. They carried on like old friends, laughing about one thing or another. After some time, Mary Alice glanced over at Edward with a small smile. Isabella, playing right into her hand, looked over as well and once again caught Edward's attention. They held eye contact with each other as Edward once again tried to read her. But, just as last time, he was at a loss. It was troubling when the thoughts of others were easy to come by, even without eye contact.

His mother then approached the group, introducing herself to the lady of the hour. They carried on what seemed to be a comfortable conversation for a few minutes until Mary Alice deliberately interrupted them to ask Mrs. Masen a question. His mother seemed surprised at first but quickly became engaged in the new subject, her eyes alight with excitement. It put Edward on the edge of anxiousness.

Not much later, Mary Alice began to usher Miss Swan his way, a smirk present of her features. Once they were at his side, he quietly ended the piece he was on and stood up to face the lovely young woman.

Her beauty up close was even more apparent, as was her unease. Trying to make her more comfortable, Edward smiled warmly at her. She smiled back at him with a silent beauty. Edward felt nothing coming from her like the others. Mary Alice's smugness had returned and Jessica Stanley's rage of jealousy was in full force. But from Miss Isabella Swan, nothing. She was like a sculpture or rather an angel of Michelangelo's. She was an enigma.

Mary Alice smiled brightly. "Isabella, this is the town's musical genius and my best friend, Edward Masen. He attends Stoker as well. Edward, this is Miss Isabella Swan. She has wanted to meet the wonderful musician all night."

Isabella blushed slightly and she stuck out her slim, white hand towards Edward. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Edward."

Edward gently took her hand in his. It was so slight that he feared that the smallest amount of pressure would break it. He carefully brought it to his lips. He placed a tender, chaste kiss on the back of her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Swan."

She laughed.

For a moment, Edward was stunned. A feather could have knocked him on his back. Her laughter, as quiet and contained as it was, was the most musical thing he had ever heard. A world symphony could not compare. It was as though an angel had created the most beautiful sound and sent it to Earth in the form of her voice.

But it was not love. He was not fooled.

"Please, call me Isabella. 'Miss Swan' is far too informal." She laughed again. Edward could listen to it all day.

"Of course, Isabella," he replied, bowing his head slightly. As she laughed again, he took his seat on the bench once more, leaving room. "What do you say to a duet, Isabella?" He smiled and motioned for her to join him on the seat.

Isabella sat down next to him and smiled. "A duet, Mr. Masen?"

"Edward," he corrected. "Yes. Perhaps you could honor all of your well-wishers with a song? I know you don't play but perhaps you sing. I will be obliged to accompany you. I doubt you can come up with a song I don't know." He was bragging, he knew it. But he found that he could not help it. Besides, he had her laughing and that was good enough for him.

"I'm afraid I will do no such thing."

" And why not?" he questioned.

She laughed again, looking away from him for a moment. When she turned back to him, the blush that his questioning caused was still evident on her handsome features. "Because I don't sing. I would not want to subject anyone to that particular form of torture."

Edward laughed himself. He highly doubted that anyone who could make laughter sound like a full symphony could have a horrible singing voice. However, he resolved not to push her. "Very well. How about a request? My gift to you."

Blush appeared on her cheeks like the blossoming of a red rose. She bit her lip and looked down at the keys. "I have a confession to make."

Edward's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "A confession?" He looked to Mary Alice, her amusement pouring from her. She merely smiled.

"Yes," Isabella said, fidgeting with her hands. "I was in the music store earlier today…when you were playing for Mary Alice. I was looking for the florist but I was drawn in by the pure passion of the music I heard. I was under the impression that it was a record playing due to the perfection of the notes. However, Mr. Johnston told me it was you in the back."

"Did you hear that, Edward?" Mary Alice said over his shoulder. She was smirking; he could hear it in her voice. "You sounded good enough to be on a record. I've been telling you that for years."

"Mary Alice," Edward warned before he turned back to Isabella. Her cheeks were aflame with her blush once again.

He smiled as his fingers found the keys. They started to move on their own accord, playing the familiar melody of "Moonlight Sonata". Isabella's head snapped up, a shy smile on her pink lips. She watched his fingers dance over the keys with ease.

She looked back up at him as the song drifted to a close. When the last note dissipated into silence, she brought her hands together and clapped lightly. Her smile lit up her face and her eyes were wide with what he could only believe was wonder. He was happy he could give her that.

"I must say," Isabella began after a few moments. "You have an extraordinary gift, Edward. A gift from God."

Edward smiled in modestly but was flattered nonetheless. He shook his head in dismissal of her comment, not wishing to divulge deeper into treacherous waters with the shark known as Mary Alice at his shoulder. But it was not Mary Alice who took a snap at his ankle. No, it was Jessica Stanley who decided to butt her nose in.

She was suddenly standing next to the piano, leaning up against it in a fashion that was sure to show off her figure and her designer gown in blood red. She rested her elbow on the edge of the piano and smiled at the small group in front of her.

"That was truly delightful, Eddie," she said in a sickly sweet voice while batting her eyelashes. "Oh, hello, Isabella," she added as though just noticing her presence. She ignored Mary Alice's all together.

"Hello, Jessica," Isabella said in her quiet tone that rang like bells. "I was just commenting on Edward's remarkable playing."

"Yes," Jessica said, setting her sights on Edward once again. He felt like he was being circled by vultures. "He does play well, doesn't he? It's a shame the silly boy simply loathes doing it. Always such a chore to force a song out of him." She laughed loudly, still eyeing Edward. He fought the urge to cringe. His mother would kill him if he acted like anything but a gentleman.

"Really?" Isabella asked, looking at Edward with a surprised expression. Her eyes bore into his own as if searching for the truth. "I believe I just heard Miss Brandon and your mother speaking of your application to the Institute of Musical Art in New York. Isn't the correct, Miss Brandon?" She turned the force of her chocolate eyes on the girl in question behind them before turning back to Edward.

"It's Mary Alice, please, darling," Mary Alice said with a smile. "And, yes, we were…because he is. Isn't that right, Junior?"

Edward sighed. He felt as though all eyes were focused on him. He chose to address Isabella herself and the truth of the matter came spilling out. "Well, yes, I am applying there. But, if the truth be told, I'm being forced. It is my ambition to join the services and fight overseas."

Isabella started at him for a moment with a look that he could not comprehend. "Hmm…seems like such a waste." There was pain under the even tone of her voice that tore at Edward. He watched helplessly as she stood less than gracefully from the bench and started to walk away.

"Wait," Edward said. Isabella stopped and turned slowly on the spot to regard him. Her face was carefully composed as she stared down at him. "What did you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I was being rather uncouth. Please forgive my horrid manners."

She started to turn away again but Edward could not let her go without an explanation. Her words affected him in a way that he could not explain. It was as though they were made of knifes and they cut through his skin, piercing him to the bone. "I will…if you tell me what you meant."

Isabella sighed and shook her head, biting her lip. Her cheeks were red once again as she examined her shoes. She seemed to make up her mind after a minute and looked him in the eye. "Those hands…your hands…they weren't made to kill." With that she turned on her heel and walked off as quickly as was possible for her.

"Way to go, Junior," Mary Alice hissed in his ear before hitting him in the back of the head.

"Don't you have someone else you can annoy, you little pixie?"

She merely laughed and walked off, only to leave him alone with Jessica.

She came and took the spot on the bench that Isabella recently vacated before Edward could slid over and take the space up again. She moved as close as she possibly could without actually sitting in his lap.

"Oh, don't listen to her, Eddie. She's just being difficult. Oh! I know what will cheer you up!" She turned to him and gripped his bicep with both her hands. "A duet. You and me. You promised at Christmas, remember?"

"Right," Edward said, pushing himself off the bench and grabbing the champagne where Mary Alice had left it earlier. He downed it one swallow before turning back to Jessica. "Some other time, though. I'm…tired."

The night continued as though there had been no confrontation involving the reason for the celebration and the un-hired entertainer. Said girl walked around the room greeting all her guests and playing the excellent hostess. She was going to fit in well in Naperville. Edward, meanwhile, sat in a chair near the window still contemplating Isabella's statements. He could not figure out where they had come from. She did not know him at all. Where did get off spouting her opinions where they were neither asked for nor required? She seemed to be the figure of propriety without an ounce of it really in her system. Truly a Naperville citizen.

It was towards the end of the evening when Mary Alice joined him again. She sat on the arm of his chair and pointed towards the entrance of the room. "The new doctor has just arrived."

Edward watched Mr. Swan and Isabella approach a man in his late twenties to early thirties. He was very attractive, easily the best looking man in the room. He was dressed in his own fashionable suit. He had an air of control and calm around him. His features were relaxed and there was a charming smile on his face as he greeted Isabella. There was something about him that Edward could not quite place though. He was so unique, so handsome, so…unreal. His skin was remarkably pale, even for the winter months. There were purple circles under his eyes that stood out even more due to his pallor. When Edward focused on his eyes, he was startled to see that they were near to black.

"Does he strike you as…odd?" Mary Alice asked, her own eyes locked on the man twenty feet away.

Edward shrugged, not wanting to admit his unwarranted disquiet towards the man he did not know. "Different, yes. Odd, I don't know…."

Mary Alice looked down at him and shrugged as well. She was unsettled too.

At the end of the evening, when Edward and Mary Alice went to retrieve their family's coats, they walked past a room with the door slightly ajar that held Mr. Swan and Isabella inside. Try as they might not to overhear their conversation, they could not help it as they dug through the closet.

"I just don't think Edward Masen is the type of young man you should be associating with, Isabella," a voice in Mr. Swan's tenor said.

"Well, maybe if you explained why, I'd be willing to comply."

"That is between Edward and myself. I am asking this of you, Isabella. It is a matter of propriety."

"Propriety?" Isabella sighed and was then silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet with her submission. "Of course, father."

Mary Alice bit her lip and looked at Edward. Edward let out a soft bitter laugh and walked back down the hall.

It did not matter. It did not matter that he was forbidden from seeing her due to a complete misunderstanding and idiocy on Mr. Swan's part. It did not matter if it was an act of propriety for Miss Isabella Swan did not seem to possess it when it concerned him. It did matter that she had agreed to her father's request for she seemed to be disgusted with him as it was.

It did not matter in the slightest because Edward was too busy trying to repair the hole she had blown in his ego with her simple comments. She had gotten under his skin like no one else had ever managed to do.


End file.
